Admire
by Hobbitpal
Summary: You can still admire someone even when you're shouting at them.
1. Admire

Admire

As much as she disliked the twins for using their products on first years, she did have to admire their ingenious products. For two people who showed little interest in academic life they were exceptionally intelligent. Half of their products called for complex potions and charms, even some advanced transfiguration that wasn't taught until the seventh year. No one could not look at their products and not admire them for what they were doing.

She smiled slightly as she watched the pair of them demonstrate one of their new products for the Skiving snack boxes. She would tell them off in a minute, but for now she had to let them have their moment of glory as she admired them and their genius.


	2. Joke

Joke

It had gone beyond a joke. Ron had over stepped too many lines for him not to get away with the things he said. While the first few times he'd imitated Krum on land had been funny, now he was just being cruel.

George sat on the other side of the common room, watching her as she tried to focus on her homework, hopelessly ignoring the rude comments Ron was saying slightly louder than he should be. He understood why Ron was trying to make jokes about Viktor Krum- he was a rival. He had set himself up with Hermione as her Yule Ball partner and the incident in the lake was well, not what anyone had been expecting really. He got Ron's frustration and anger that some idiot from another country with much more wealth and talent than him had just stepped on the scene and taken her into his arms. He was angry about that too. He fancied Hermione as much as any of the guys with eyes did at Hogwarts. Hermione was a very pretty and intelligent girl. She was a dream of any boy. But there was no need to be rude about her and Krum.

"Ron, shut up. We've heard the joke before. Just sit there and do your homework." Ron looked up at him, taken aback by the tone in his brother's voice. Hermione just smiled at him across the room, grateful he had put an end to the joke.


	3. Cold

Cold

He didn't know how long he'd been stood outside. It had seemed like an age, just lost in all that had happened in the past few months. The end of the war, Fred's death, all the celebrations and then the seeming normality as people just clicked back to their lives. He didn't get how people had done it. He'd lost someone in the war, like many people had and he could not simply go back to his old life. There was no 'old life'. There was no Fred to run the shop with, to sit and plan pranks with. No one seemed to understand that except Hermione. Out of all the people in the world she was the last one he would have thought about turning to.

"George?" A hand gently touched his arm. He looked around, seeing her stood there, concern written in her eyes though she fought to keep it off her face. "George, you've been stood out here for almost an hour." He didn't react. He knew he'd been out there a long time. His whole body felt numb with cold and grief. They were really the same thing to him. All his senses were. None of them worked at the moment. He couldn't feel emotion, hear anything, touch, see or smell. Bar her. She somehow broke through the layers of grief that were wrapped around him in an attempt to stave off the cold, numbing feeling inside.

"Come on George. I'll make hot chocolate and a bath for you." He just let her take him inside, not pulling back, letting the gentle warmth of her and flow into his. He knew that the cold he felt at the death of his twin would not disappear easily, but it could be slowly warmed with Hermione helping him through it.


	4. Stories

Stories

"Please Dad, just one more story?" George Weasley sighed as he looked at the faces of the two children clutching at his leg. He knew what they were up to. Just because it was his turn to put them to bed, they thought they could stay up a little later than if their mother was putting them to bed. Hermione had rules. One story before bed then that was it, no more. The lights went off and she left them to sleep. Dad was a bit more lenient in his rules for bedtime.

"Oh alright. But you must Weasley promise not to tell your mother that I let you stay up past your bedtime." Small heads nodded vigorously as they settle themselves into their beds, ready for their second story.

George sat for a minute, looking down at the faces of his children, smiling as he did, wondering what story to tell them. Then it came to him, the best story of all.

"A long time ago, long before you were even born there were two people who hated each other. They were rivals, fighting all the time about the littlest of things. Now one of these people was a beautiful princess, who commanded over a great castle and all love her greatly, except this lowly servant boy. He was not a very nice boy. He would tease the princess and call her names, making fun of her beauty and intelligence. They would fight whenever they saw each other until one day the princess decided that she had had enough of the servant boy. She banished him from the castle, telling him that if he was ever rude to anyone again, his mouth would close forever."

"Now, a few years past and the princess came to miss the little servant boy, for while he had been rude to her, he had also been amusing. So she sent a messenger to go and find the servant boy and bring him back. But they could not find him, for he had turned into a man, a kind gentle man who was respected throughout the land. After much persuasion he came back to the castle only to discover that the princess too had changed. She had grown into the loveliest of people who didn't want any more fighting or sadness in her castle. They two became friends and soon fell in love. But war kept them apart for many years until finally they could be together, banishing the world of all hatefulness and cruelty. They had three beautiful children and lived happily ever after. Now- bedtime. Come on, no more protesting."

He scooped up his youngest son and placed him into his bed, carefully folding the covers around the little boy. The boy was already half asleep, as where his older brothers, smiles on their faces.

Hermione just smiled as she watched her husband tucking the boys into bed. George was a good story teller which was why she didn't tell him off for telling the boys a second story when they should have been asleep.


	5. Start over

Start Over

They'd not seen each other for a very long time, since the announcement had been made actually. Their relationship had ended on goodish terms, but she had not missed the crushed look on his face when George had stood up at the normal Weasley Sunday dinner and announced his proposal to her. Ron had accepted it graciously and calmly, but she'd not since him since. He'd avoided her, George and all the other Weasleys and although she knew it was in no way her fault that he felt as though he couldn't come to any social gatherings she was present at it still hurt her inside and made it seem like it all was her fault. It seemed impossible that they could start over in their friendship, with all that had happened before.

"Always knew you'd end up as a Weasley. You suit it." They smiled uneasily at each other. She didn't really know what to say to him and he was just as unsure. So they stood there, nervous, neither knowing what to say or do.

It was Hermione who broke the silence, throwing her arms around his neck. She may not completely have her best friend back, but he was willing to start over, to see her into the next chapter of her life, even it was from a distance. That was made her cry as she clutched his neck.

"Thank you." Ron just shrugged as her husband grinned at him from the other side of the reception hall.


	6. Roses

Roses

The first thing she saw was the large vase of roses. They were pale white, beautiful in the warm summer sunlight that had come in through the windows. She'd never seen anything so beautiful and delicate in her life. But where had they come from? She was the only one who lived in the flat and they had not been there when she'd gone to bed the night before. Then the smells of breakfast being cooked caught her nostrils. There was only one person who made breakfast for her and would be brave enough to come into her flat without her knowing. George Weasley.

"Happy Valentine's day." She smiled, walking across the kitchen come dining room to kiss him firmly on the lips, pulling him away from the bacon he was frying. He responding, lifting her up slightly so he could hold her tight to him. He enjoyed surprising her every now and then with treats and small gestures that would remind her that he loved her. It wasn't that she forgot in the hours of the day that they spent apart, but occasionally it was nice to treat her, to remind her that not all men are like Ronald Weasley.

"Thank you darling." He grinned, kissing her again as she gently relaxed her grip around his neck, moving her arms to his waist so he could continue cooking breakfast. She liked this, him dropping by unexpectedly. He was predictable in that she would never really know if he was going to do it or not. Of course, he had not really broken into her home. He had his own key and knew the passwords to all her protections.

They sat eating in silence, her admiring her new roses in their vase while he watched her. There was something he wanted to ask her, something big and important that made him nervous. Five years ago he would never have thought of doing this, but he was a different man to the one had been. She was a different woman.

"Hermione," She looked at him, smiling as she did so. He coughed slightly, trying to find his nerve. "Hermione. You have been my girlfriend for some time now and well, willyoumarryme?" He blurted the last few words so that she couldn't understand them. He took a deeper breath and tried to control his voice as he took on of the pure white roses from the vase. It transformed into a simple silver ring, lying in the palm of his hand as he looked into her eyes, no longer nervous.

"Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"

The passionate kiss on his lips was what he took to mean she said yes.


	7. Foot

Foot

It was so pink and soft, teasing him as he sat looking up at it, cocking his head from side to side as it moved from side to side, turning over and over, poking out from under the duvet. It was just there, so tempting and teasing. But it wasn't his owner's foot. It was far too big and heavy. Her feet were light and dainty, not good for rubbing up against, there was nowhere on them to scratch and rub up against. Also, she'd told him off very badly when he'd tried it. So he stayed away from her feet whenever one of them dared to appear from under the duvet. But these feet were new. He'd not seen them before in the bed. They had not been declared off limit to him. This was potentially good news. But the big question for him was where these feet had come from. They were men's feet, that was clear and he had, of course, seen men's feet before in the flat, but they never came into the bedroom. They were also told to wait in the sitting room or the kitchen. These were the first pair of feet that had been allowed into the bedroom and into the bed. Was this now his new master? Would he have to obey the commands of this human as well?

He cocked his head again, purring slightly as he did so, trying to think of all the men his mistress knew and which of them she could allow into a room that she had reserved for herself. There was the black haired man his mistress called Harry. But he was normally always accompanied by a red haired woman called Ginny and they seemed to be very involved with each other. Then there was the other frequent male visitor- Ron. There had been some mention many many months ago of him and his mistress finding their way into her bedroom, but that seemed to have failed rather spectacularly. The fight that they had had not been one to miss. There were a few other redheads who came to visit but all of them had seemed more friends than bedroom companions.

Movement from the bed caused him to back away slowly. He was curious to find out whom the feet belonged to, but he didn't want to be stepped on by them. But the foot just disappeared back under the duvet.

"You have wonderful bed head." A voice he'd not heard before caused him to become curious again. Creeping forward, he leapt up onto the end of the bed, slowly moving his way forward, hoping his mistress would not spot him.

"As do you." There were giggles and an odd noise he'd never heard before. If he didn't know better his mistress was kissing the man in bed with her. This was then his new potential master.

"George, you know we have to tell Ron that we're dating now." There was a sigh from the man called George. "George, we've been going around on tip toe for almost 6 months now, he has to know. I can't keep lying to him about it, he's getting suspicious."

"Ron doesn't have any control over your life any more. He screwed up and lost you. If he can't accept that then that his is problem, but you do not deserve to be scared of his opinion. No Hermione, don't give me that look. He has caused you enough issues. If you want to tell him then we can, but I personally don't give a bean for his opinion on the subject."

My mistress sighed this time, a sad sigh that reminded me of the years she had spent at that school, lying on her bed in the evening crying into her pillow about the boy called Ron who called her horrid names. I could not stop myself from meowing softly, wanting to comfort my mistress as I had done all those years ago. I moved forward again, nuzzling myself in between them. George just smiled, stroking the top of my head as I purred at my mistress. She smiled back at me.

"Good morning Crockshanks. Where have you been all night?" I just meowed, enjoying the attention I always got from her in the morning. I didn't tell her that I had been on a foot hunt. It was clear that this man's foot was off limits when it appeared from under the duvet. But maybe the foot of Ron Wealey was on limit for a bit of nibbling.


	8. Delight

Delight

The little boy on her knees gave a squeal of delight, clapping his small podgy hands together as the fluffy bunny on the table hopped towards him. The boy delighted in watching displays of magic, especially when they were aimed at his toys. The hopping bunny was by far his favourite it seemed, but a display of bright origami birds also made him giggle with delight as they softly flapped around him, landing on his head as he tried to grab them from the sky.

George Weasley smiled as he watched the pair of them smile and giggle as the rabbit began to leap into the air, landing closer and closer to the excited little boy each time it leapt into the air. He wished Fred could see the delight on the boy's face at the new range of products he'd developed for children. Toys that hopped and skipped, encouraging toddlers to crawl and walk after them. Small pieces of magic that made them used to the environment they would grow up in. They weren't really joke products; they were more of an introduction to what was to come. His smile widened slightly as the boy was set on the ground with the rabbit, the little figure rising unsteadily to his feet as he began to waddle after the toy, her following a few feet behind, ready to catch him if he took too much of a tumble to the ground. She was over protective. The boy needed to fall over once in a while; otherwise he'd never learn to get back up again. He'd had to as a boy and his own son would do just the same. That was, if his wife would allow him to.

He couldn't quite believe that he was married with a son, a family that gave him so much delight and joy in his life. It had seemed an age ago that he had thought he would pass his life in grief and pain. That was, until she'd helped him see that there was still a life to be lived. Sat on the sofa watching Hermione and their son walk around the living room chasing a hopping furry bunny he knew that there were still many more delights to come from live, the main one being living.


	9. Wishes

Wishes

If he could change history he would. He knew he would. But there was no use in wishing for something that would not happen. He knew that and he would still never accept it.

Ron Weasley sat on the back porch of the Burrow watching them a few feet away from him on the lawn. There were so many things he wished he could change about the scene in front of him. The man she was with, the children they were reading and playing with, the happy smiles she gave to a husband that was not him. He knew the reasons as to why he was wishing for history to be different, for the world around him to be the one he had dreamed of as he had been growing up. He was that reason; his own ignorance and arrogance, the assumed idea that she would walk into the sunset with him because he wished it so. He was the reason her heart had been shattered. And wishing for the world to rewind would not make it any better. He'd already had that fight with himself a number of times.

"I wish you happiness."

George and Hermione Weasley didn't hear his wish for them, but Ron felt better knowing that her wishes would come true with the man who really loved and cared about her.


	10. News

News

He sat in the living room of the Burrow, listening intensely to the radio, hoping he wouldn't hear anything about his brother, Harry or Hermione. The three of them had vanished after the wedding had been gate-crashed by Death eaters. He and Fred had had some idea of what they were planning, but he still couldn't believe that she had gone, that she had ignored all his warnings and simply left without so much as a word of goodbye to him.

"They'll be fine mate, you know those three, trouble finds them but they always come out alive." Fred tried to make his brother feel better as the names of people who were missing or dead continued to be read. There were so many, far too many. George just prayed that they didn't hear any names that they recognized.

"What if they don't? Harry is always so gung ho and never really stops to think things through. Ron is like his little faithful lap dog who'll follow him to the ends of the earth and back because that is what he does. Remember when we first went to Hogwarts? The idiot tried to sneak onto the train. He's like a puppy looking for its master. And Hermione? She may be a genius but she still has no idea what is going on. I just… I just don't want her name to be read out in that list." He waved his hand towards the radio. He felt drained with exhaustion and worry. "I just want her to be safe."

Fred sank onto the sofa next to him, nodding. He knew how his twin felt, he felt the same about Angelina. He knew where she was and that she was safe, but he still had nightmares of finding her broken dead body.

The news reel finished. Her name had not been there. This time. He left out a sigh of relief, his head falling into his hands. He'd listen again tomorrow, as he always did, praying that her name was missing again from the list, trying to convince himself that no news was good. but truth be told, it never is in a war.


	11. Strength

Strength

"How did you manage it?" Molly Weasley looked up from making lunch to gaze questioningly at the young woman sat opposite her. Hermione was gazing out of the kitchen window into the back garden where the rest of the family were playing a game of quidditch.

"What do you mean dear?" The younger woman sighed, turning to her soon to be mother-in-law, shrugging her shoulders as she did so.

"How did you manage to raise such a large family and not go mental?" Molly couldn't help but laugh. She knew what Hermione meant. Out of all her daughters in law, she knew Hermione would have the most difficulty mixing in with the family. Although the girl had pretty much spent every summer with the Weasleys since she'd been 12 she had occasionally found it overwhelming at times, so unlike her own background of being an only child of two parents who had had her by accident.

"Strength, the strength of my love for my family kept me sane, keeps me sane." She smiled as she glanced out of the window as well. Her family had grown in past years. Percy had married, Ginny and Harry were getting married, Ron was seeing someone, Fred was attached, though no one had ever met the woman, not even George. Bill and Fleur had two small children and another one on the way. Then there was Hermione, marrying George in less than a month's time.

"You and George will find strength from each other in your marriage, that's what happens. It doesn't matter if you have one child for seven, you will always find the strength you need in those around you. That is what makes a family strong. Take when Percy went to Hogwarts. He'd got two very successful brothers before him. He was scared about how people would react to him, whether they would simply see him as Bill and Charlie's younger brother or if he would be accepted as Percy Weasley, a student in his own right. The night before he went Bill took him aside and told him that although he was the third Weasley to be at Hogwarts he would also be his own person because he was different to his brothers. No one would see him as another Weasley because he was not his brothers. Percy gained strength from the love of his brother and the courage to know that he could be his own person and not be in the shadow of his older brothers." Hermione sat there, smiling at the thought of Bill and Percy having a heart to heart. The two were close, Bill seemed to get Percy in a way none of his other brothers did.

"Think of when you started dating George, and Ron got so jealous. Did you give up and decide that you would never date anyone again? No, you carried on your relationship with George and now look at you, going to be his wife in less than three weeks. You and George have a lot of love between you, great strength to preserve. You, my dear, will be the sanest Weasley woman out of all of us." Hermione smiled, nodding as she looked out of the window.

"Now, why don't you go outside while I make pudding?"

"Thank you Molly." The older woman just smiled as Hermione got up from the table, going outside, hugging her fiancé to her. Yes, Hermione was defiantly going to be the most sane Weasley woman ever because she was marrying the most insane of her sons.


	12. Scream

Scream

It ripped through him like a knife. He couldn't stop the noise coming from his mouth as he watched the wall fall, over and over again in his mind's eye. He couldn't stop his brother, his twin from dying. All he could do was stand there, watching as he screamed at Fred to move.

Sometimes it wasn't Fred that was caught under the toppling mould of rocks. It would be his mother, his father, Bill, Charlie, Ron, Ginny, Harry. Hermione. The nightmares contained all of them dying while all he did was watch and scream. He wanted it all to stop. He wanted the nightmares to leave him alone, the sound of the screams to die away in his ears forever. But they never did. He always woke to find himself covered in sweat, gasping for air as he sank back into his pillows.

He tried not to sleep, tried to stay awake so he wouldn't hear or see the nightmares. But it never seemed to work. Somehow, they'd find him.

She watched over him, not knowing how to help him with his nightmares and fears. She didn't tell him that he screamed in his sleep, that it hurt her so much to see him in pain. But what could she do bar hold him in the aftermath, sooth his hair, gently whisper into his ear that he was safe, that he was okay and that nothing was going to hurt him anymore. That was all she could do, and pray that one day soon the screams would stop.


	13. Trust

Trust

He'd never really had an issue trusting people. It was more the other way round. People had issues trusting him. Not that he could blame them. He did rather have a reputation for being a pain in the arse at times. All the time really, but he didn't want to brag. Of course, there were those who did trust him completely. His twin, Ginny, Ron, friends like Oliver and Katie. But in the general populous of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, not many people would trust him. Not that he could blame them for doing so. His reputation was impressive among Hogwart's students. People didn't exactly fear him, but they were cautious of him, especially if he ever offered them anything, even if it was a genuine sweet. But he wasn't fussed if the everyday students of Hogwart's didn't trust him. He only wanted one person to trust him and he knew that if he wanted her to, he would have to change.

"Hey Granger, what you doing?" Brown eyes flashed up from the book in front of her to watch the red haired boy who had dropped into the seat opposite. Unconsciously she pulled her papers towards her, glancing around her to see if his twin was crouching nearby, ready to strike. She knew it was silly to be so cautious around them, they were nice boys, it was just…she knew what they were like with their pranks. The element of surprise was their friend and her enemy.

"I'm studying. You?"

"I was looking for you and hey, I found you!" He grinned. She did not return it. He sighed, leaning forward so she had to look at him. "You don't trust me do you?"

The slightest blush of red on her checks was all he needed to know that he was right. He wanted her to trust him, wanted her to see that he was a nice guy; that his reputation of prankster extraordinaire was only one part of who he was, that really, he was a good man, a nice person, someone she could trust when things got bad for her.

Hermione opened her mouth a few times, trying to form an answer that would sound polite and not the harsh truth she wanted to say.

"I have misgivings about your intensions. Just occasionally, when you're other half is around, or Lee." It sounded worse than she thought it would. "Okay, yes, I don't trust you! I worry that you're going to spike my pumpkin juice; that I'll wake up with pink hair and a beard. I don't trust you anywhere near the first years and I think you have a bad influence on people. Why would I trust you?" George stared at her. Turn her hair pink? Give her a beard? Never had she been the target of one of their pranks, but he guessed he could see why she would be cautious.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. But there are a lot of reasons to trust me. I care about you and I hate the way Ron treats you. You're far too good for him. I know I can be a prankster, but know that I would never prank you. You've had far too much of a bad time for you to become the butt of our pranks." A tiny smile crept into the corners of her mouth as she looked up into his deep chocolate brown eyes. He grinned, patting her hand as he got up to leave. She watched him walk away, wondering there was indeed another side to Mr. George Weasley, one that could be trusted with her heart.


End file.
